


Faithful

by unknowableroom_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-05
Updated: 2005-11-05
Packaged: 2019-01-19 16:03:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12413406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unknowableroom_archivist/pseuds/unknowableroom_archivist
Summary: Only she was faithful.Bellatrix-centric





	Faithful

**Author's Note:**

> Note from ChristyCorr, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Unknowable Room](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Unknowable_Room), a Harry Potter archive active from 2005-2016. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after May 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [Unknowable Room collection profile](http://www.archiveofourown.org/collections/unknowableroom).

****

  


Faithful

  


 

“Find him, restore him to his glory.”� Bellatrix repeats her mantra as she continues her maniacal torture of the foolish Auror, Frank Longbottom. She smiles at his anguished cries and asks once more about the Dark Lord. Nothing. He gives her the same empty reply, forcing Bellatrix to use the Cruciatus Curse again. This series of events repeat themselves like a never-ending nightmare, every action appearing slow, languid, and unstoppable. Bellatrix knows it’s useless, she knows that there isn’t much, if any, hope. Yet, she continues. The feeling and desire to punish this ignorant man’s uselessness is overwhelming. The knowledge that she holds power and control over his life and death intoxicates her, driving her to curse him again and again. It’s ecstasy. Finally, his broken body lies before her, the cold, unfocused eyes staring up at her. She watches as they cloud up with the dense fog of insanity and is overcome by a feeling of utmost satisfaction. He’s not dead but rather in a state where he no longer knows what living is.

 

Bellatrix turns to her husband who seems to have had the same effect on Longbottom’s wife, Alice. The woman blathers on unintelligibly about gum resin and the taste of Drooble’s Best Blowing Gum. Bellatrix contemplates the idiocy of trying to protect half-bloods, mudbloods, and the like as she watches the woman giggle to herself over nothing. With a contemptuous glance she raises her wand and performs the Cruciatus Curse on Alice once again as her husband, her brother-in-law, and the Crouch boy watch.

 

Sooner than she has expected, she hears the sound of Aurors as they Apparate on the premises. The group is met with a barrage of curses from Bellatrix and the other three Death Eaters. She puts up a terrible fight as the Aurors attempt to restrain her and glares defiantly at the imbecile who manages to disarm her. Bound, she walks into the fireplace proudly while her captor reaches for a handful of Floo powder.

 

The familiar whooshing sensation unnerves her for a second and she is reminded once more of her loathings for the Floo network. She regains her composure, stepping into the building with her head held high; they can’t make her feel ashamed for protecting the purity of the wizarding race. The damp stench of dirt and waste fill her nostrils as she observes the dreary office. Cries and screams echo through the salty air telling her exactly what she needs to know. She’s about to be entombed in Azkaban along with her fellow Death Eaters.

 

Officials confiscate her wand and then unbind her, putting Bellatrix under the guard of two dementors. She glances back, watching as the Crouch boy wails and tries to escape imprisonment. He turns his eyes to her and Bellatrix gives him a malicious grin before walking into Azkaban. The dementors glide before her, their menacing shapes just barely visible in the dimly lit corridors. Everywhere, prisoners draw back as she passes them, guided by the demon sentinels before her.

 

Bellatrix is shown to a corner cell, which reeks of death and decay. It seems only fitting that a murderer be choked by the scent of what she’s caused. She has only a small, rectangular window in her cell and it is that which provides a meagre light by which to examine the cell. Bellatrix takes note of what appear to be scratches on the wall and gathers her robes around her, taking a seat on the hard cot before her. She can still hear the wailing of her fellow prison mates as she smiles to herself at the thought of what had led her here.

 

She alone was faithful.


End file.
